


| long time no see |

by Alex_Chalamet



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Bondage, Damon Salvatore Bottom, Damon Salvatore Humor, Damon Salvatore tied, Damon is a brat, Damon salvatore tied up, Dominance, Fight for domination, Fighting Kink, Hurt, Inspired by The Originals (TV), Inspired by The Vampire Diaries, Klamon - Freeform, Kneeling, M/M, Masochism, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Prostitution, Sadism, Submission, Teasing, domination fight, power
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:15:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26220238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alex_Chalamet/pseuds/Alex_Chalamet
Summary: Damon Salvatore. He wandered around the world for years, remaining in the shadows and looking for allies. He wants to overthrow the faulty system of the country in which he lived, knock down the Mikaelson family and get rid of their dictatorship forever.Klaus Mikaelson. He sits on the throne and holds the whole country in one hand. He knows perfectly well he has many enemies who are just waiting for some mistake to overthrow him or take his place. However, does he expect an attack from a person with whom he once had a significant feeling? How their meeting will end?
Relationships: Klaus Mikaelson & Damon Salvatore, Klaus Mikaelson/Damon Salvatore
Kudos: 20





	| long time no see |

**Author's Note:**

> Before You read this, there are couple of things, You should know about the alternative universe, the story is put into.
> 
> 1\. The world is inspired by The Hunger Games (2012), Incorporated (2016), Game of Thrones (2011-2019) and of course The Vampire Diaries (2009-2017) with its spin-off The Originals (2013-2018).
> 
> 2\. The characters are also inspired by the shows mentioned above, nevertheless they be different than your own interpretation of them, so please, mind it.
> 
> 3\. Back to the world; it's kind of a kingdom, but modern, based on the newest technology. The State is ruled by the monarchy, the royal family - Mikaelsons.
> 
> 4\. The state is divided into seven districts. In the middle is the Capital, where the royal family and the richest families of the state live. The farther from the Capital, the less wealthy the citizens are, and the less importance is attached to technology. The capital is the center of modernity.
> 
> 5\. Every district has its own speciality, a specific role, it does something different, and is headed by one family.
> 
> 6\. Division of districts and family names:  
> (number - name - speciality - house)  
> I - Primus - Technology – Mikaelson (the ruling dynasty, what makes Klaus a king)  
> II - Secundus - Energy - Salomon  
> III - Tertius - Heavy industry - Sarkissian  
> IV - Quartus - Clergy - Magnus  
> V - Quintus - Light industry - Chauvelot  
> VI - Sextus - Agroculture - d'Aigreville  
> VII - Septimus - Mining - de la Reue
> 
> 7\. Salvatore was once the great and proud house. Their father, however, disgraced the family, making it worthless. Other houses turned their backs on Salvatore, treating them like garbage. For his failure, Giuseppe defied his sons who sought consolation from others. Damon found them in the arms of Niklaus Mikaelson, who quickly became his friend as well as his lover. Father Salvatore was unstable. When he tried to murder Stefan, a fight ensued in which the older son killed his father in an attempt to protect his younger brother. The brothers later fled, wandering further districts.
> 
> 8\. The currency:  
> Crown - it's like Pound (GBP);  
> Haler - it's like Pence (GBP).
> 
> 9\. This is not a fantasy, so characters are not vampires; they’re humans.
> 
> This note will be edited.

THE STORY OF THE SALVATORE HOUSE:  
The Salvatore family was once one of the most respected dynasties in the country. Others sought their favor, wished to be devoted to their time, wanted to befriend them, impress them, and sometimes simply surprise them. Some did so for purely practical and personal reasons, highly derived from a positive social relationship with a high-ranking family. Others, in turn, bowed down in fear, unwilling to make them enemies or lose their privileges.

The power of the dynasty grew in direct proportion to its ambitions. The leader of the family wanted more and more, and more and more, until he finally encountered a family he was unable to win, which was better than him. However, while trying to achieve his political, financial and economic goals, he got lost in his scams to such an extent that eventually more blackmail, bribes or murders began to slowly come to light, and the Salvatores were thrown off its pedestal by society. Since then, the family and its last members have been treated in a reprehensible way, nobody wants to negotiate with them, be friends, or even shake hands with them. After all, who would like to form an alliance with someone who has exploited others for years?

Damon Salvatore is one of the last members of the family. He grew up at a time when his name meant more than he wanted, albeit in an onerous way. He was raised by his mother and a despotic father who hated him from the moment he was born. His mother, in turn, tried to make up for all inconveniences, but when his younger brother was born, everything in his life was turned upside down. Stefan was the person everyone loved. Charming, smiling. His father rarely tried to raise his hand against him, and if anything, Damon always stood up for him, eager to save his beloved brother from all the evil in this world. His mother died seriously ill when his brother was only eleven years old. The dark-haired man helped him through the mourning period by protecting him from his father as best he could. This, however, did not give up, so the young brothers decided to finally leave the family nest.

All their lives they had to deal with the reluctance of the crowds, both during education and when trying to take up any job. In order to cope with the hatred of their ancestors and at the same time to escape from their father, they decided to go as far as possible from the capital, fleeing from unwanted fame where no one knew his name. During a police clash with a criminal, Stefan Salvatore, wanting to protect unsuspecting passersby, gave his life for the two of them, not wanting to see the deaths of the children. He died in Damon's arms without even being able to give him any last words.

Over the next year, the elder Salvatore wandered alone, mourning in a way that was mostly sex, alcohol, and any other substance known to human kind. The man felt as if he had lost the meaning of life. In the end, however, his thinking completely changed, he stated that if it were not for the injustice of the world, idiotic regulations and pseudo monarchy, nothing would happen to anyone. After getting to know a few interesting people, he began to explore the history of the state, the entire system, laws, and the secrets of the court itself. Not only has a desire for revenge grew up in him, but also to free others from the Mikaelsons dictatorship.  
DISCLAIMER: You do not need to read the story of Salvatore house, to read this fic, but if You'll do this, it'll be probably easier for You to understand the small details and conversations between the characters.

***

''Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it?  
It makes you so vulnerable.  
It opens your chest and it opens up your heart.  
It means that someone can get inside you and mess you up.''

***

Salvatore was staring at the tiny flame he had ignited with a long match, which now was dancing around it in a rythm only known to itself. His blue irises were illuminated with a golden glow, a tiny flame was telling a story, that's essence was probably written not to be ever know by any of egsisting creatures. As the firelight approached the very pads of his fingers dangerously, the man lit the meticulously adorned candle in front of him, then he watched the golden fire disappears in his fingers along with the wooden part of the match. Holograms. Today's marvels of technology. They were a delight to souls thirsty for a long-lost past. In the Capital city, tedious everyday life for spoiled capitalists, while the outermost circle of Kingdom might consider it magic.

The man raised his hand and braided his long fingers through his hair, combing the jet-black, unruly strands. He looked up to see a bartender approaching him, who had just finished making colorful drinks for some wealthy ladies sitting nearby.  
"Bourbon?" asked the fair-haired man, who had apparently got used to his not so sophisticated taste buds, after Damon visited this place so many times now.  
"Yeah, I'm starving." Salvatore replied, staring at the man's back as he reached for the appropriate bottle. "Don't stint on the alcohol."

He added, seeing after a moment that he was pouring a small amount of bourbon, at least for his taste. Some of people around here used to add specific, colorful, often sweet substances to diversify the taste of the drink, however, Damon liked the current taste of alcohol and did not feel the need to destroy it in any way.  
Moments later, his fingers tightened on the thick glass, placing its edge against the soft lips, which, having gently opened it, tilted the glass, allowing some of its contents to be in his mouth, and then on his tongue and throat, teasing them with a pleasant, sweet, but at the same time spicy taste. He flinched as he felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned slowly, seeing in front of him a well-known person who had participated in a secret uprising against the Mikaelsons rule, and he greeted him with his typical smile. 

Deveraux, because that was the name of his partner in crime, was to present him the necessary information about Niklaus, with whom he was once more than a friend. Salvatore planned to pay him a visit, and since his estates were rather guarded, he preferred to get to know him anew first, find out about his habits, where he goes, what he does, with whom he talks and when. He also wanted to learn about his weaknesses, ranging from, for example, alcohol and beautiful bodies, to finances and relationships with other families.

Damon Salvatore was never the type to hide in the darkness of his own free will for too long. In fact, he spent a part of his life in this not very glorious way, which he was forced to do by his despotic father, as well as by a society that was not kind to his relatives. Two things could be said with certainty about Damon. The first pointed to a simple fact; the man did not like when someone tried to force him to anything, and in the situation from the past, he only regretted that he had neither the resources nor the means, and in himself enough strength to be able to resist any antagonists in his life. The second, in turn, was much less complicated. Salvatore, in the end, preferred a face-to-face pose. He did not hide behind other people's backs, and he did not torture them protractedly and senselessly. He liked it when his enemies looked him straight in the eye, seeing the depth of his rage in them, every single spark that spoke of the depth of his fury. He liked his eyes to pierce his opponent right through, conveying all the emotions that accompanied him as he delivered the decisive hit.

In his present venture, however, he needed not only followers, but puppets as well, who would be able to do something for him in tasks that were too simple, too boring, or currently unavailable to him. Watching Niklaus up close was certainly among the latter. And though Damon hadn't been hiding himself on arriving at the Capitol, or avoided the curious glances of those who still had a chance to recognize him, he definitely had no more than to follow his former lover. Not at all, if he did not want to arouse any unnecessary suspicions. As if his presence in the capital city itself was not sufficiently obscured.

Deveraux turned out to be a really flexible and at the same time a valuable source of information. On the surface, it appeared transparent and harmless, which worked to his advantage. He also had the resources and the gift of persuading the right people to squeeze something out of the right people who were always hanging around the all-powerful Mikaelson. Small bribes, blackmails and intrigues have always been highly effective in similar situations, and Deveraux himself seemed to be skilfully using them.

The current location of Salvatore, which was simply Klaus' property, was fully justified. However, before he went to its megalomaniac threshold, he prepared himself accordingly. Apart from the issues of appearance, of course, which he had brought to absolute perfection, there were also issues that would help him possibly to defend himself against a man, if there were to be fisticuffs. After all, the ruler of the state was famous for his explosive character, and no one else has experienced it as well as the black-haired one. Although he pushed these events aside, deeply into memory.

Hidden beneath the soft fabric of a black cotton shirt was a leather belt that wrapped around a pale neck and stretched across the arm and upper chest all the way to the wrist. Blades. Damon had always liked blades, considering them an almost perfect weapon. Small, quiet, handy and deadly at the same time. The black, thin blade was hidden above his wrist, on his forearm perfectly within reach, ready to be used as a lethal weapon at any moment. He wasn't planning on making a coup, of course, but it's always better to be prepared. The man also took with him a forgotten technological invention. A small stun gun that emits sounds at a frequency that allows you to stun and incapacitate an enemy for a few minutes, giving you a chance to escape. But he hoped he wouldn't have to run away, and he'd have a chance to have a nice chat with his old friend.

Once inside the apartment, he had to find the fair-haired one. His house was large, but Damon had learned all the years of his life to tread silently without arousing suspicion. It was also not difficult, when the soles of the shoes were covered with a thin layer of rubber, effectively concealing unwanted sounds.

While Damon was in the living room, Niklaus was still in the bathroom where he had just finished taking a bath. The man wiped his body with a soft towel as he lowered the thresholds of the spacious tub, which until a moment ago was filled with foam and fragrance oils. Then he grabbed his velvet wrapper, tossed it casually over his shoulders, and tied a belt around his waist. In his hand was a glass of wine he took with him from the bathroom. Bare feet hit the stone floor steadily as Klaus paced the corridor. He smiled to himself as he entered the living room and took a sip of expensive alcohol. Feeling the presence of an uninvited guest, he said:

"Pour yourself something to drink now that you got here." Mikaelson nonchalantly walked over to the window, the curtains of which he slid tighter.  
The left corner of Damon's lips went up instantly as a soft, velvety, so familiar voice filled the space. He clearly underestimated Mikaelson, who was still alert, fully aware of what was going on around him. Even while taking a bath.

"Well."Damon said, spreading his arms and walking towards the ornate bottles filled with liquor. "I never say morning prayers or no to the offer of an alcohol."  
Salvatore chose something with the best chance of being his favorite bourbon, immediately filling a thick-bottomed glass with it and putting it to his mouth. He took a small sip, running his tongue over the soft, lower lip, which still had the aftertaste of the drink.

"Did you come to kill me? Rob me? I will not say that I did not expect it." Klaus said and walked around the sofas in the middle of the living room, right in front of the extinguished fireplace.  
Finally he turned on the light. Then he also looked at the couch on which he expected to find the uninvited guest, but the man's gaze found only an empty space.

"You and your paranoia, Klaus." Raven drawled. "Nothing has changed over the years, there is a tear in the corner of my eye."  
Salvatore's blue irises managed to get accustomed to the darkness a long time ago, so now they were able to follow the taller man's every move, every outline of his body, so when they were suddenly attacked by the glare of light, Damon winced slightly and blinked several times to adjust his eyes to the sudden lighting change.

"You're a coward and a bastard." Klaus hissed. "You should've stay with what you do best, which is hiding from me."  
Yes, there it is. This rage that he tried to suppress or discharge onto others. Now it was digesting every single atom of Klaus's body. He wanted to scream and throw objects. He wanted to take his guest by the neck and crush his trachea. A muffled growl escaped his throat as his eyes failed to find the source of his anger.

"Mhm." Damon muttered, pouring out a little more drink. "If I could get a crown for every part I haven't seen yet."  
Damon lifted one corner of his mouth, raising his glass as if to a toast, eyeing Mikaelson from top to bottom, deliberately keeping his eyes on where his body was exposed under the fancy material of expensive bathrobe. Klaus's clearly visible anger didn't affect him, or so it seemed from the side.

Salvatore got a little closer to the man, approaching him slowly so that he would have time to turn around if he would let his fury take control of himself and do something not necessarily prudent.  
"It wasn't you that I had to hide from a few years ago." He also reminded the man. "I almost forgot how self-centered you are."  
A malicious smile crept on the dark-haired man's lips. Mikaelson has always been the navel of the world, he believed that everything revolves around him, that if someone does something it is to please him or not, or possibly to harm him in some way. He always suspected everyone around and looked for a hole throughout. It got nostalgic…

"Fuck you, Salvatore," he hissed in response to the… irrelevant, actually, it didn’t matter what Damon was saying. This could have been Klaus's answer to every sound that came out of a man's mouth.  
If he were him, he would be paranoid too. The thing he inherited from his fathers and brothers was something that pinched him and kept him on a very short leash. Maybe that's why he was so nervous. Anyone in his place would start throwing around the cage, hoping someone would hear the noise and let him out. But so far no one was in a hurry to help Klaus. And the only person he expected support left him when he needed it the most. But that wasn't the only crux of his dislike for Damon.

"Oh, I can assure you, that's exactly what my plan is for…" he began, pausing immediately to glance at the watch that adorned his right wrist. "....later in the evening."  
In his eyes, literally for a second, could be seen a strange flash, mixed with desire, thirst and sheer pomposity. He was accompanied by such a pugnacious smile, so typical of him, which Mikaelson would most gladly wipe away from his face.  
He himself never felt as if he had left Klaus years ago. He was just standing right in front of him. So you couldn't speak of any abandonment, could you? Especially since the big bad wolf was strong, self-sufficient, and needed no one. Or at least that's what he created...

Makelson's gaze finally caught the brunet, skimmed over him critically, and finally focused on the cold eyes that seemed to glow with their own moonlight. He kept his eyes on him as he approached him. And even though Klaus was taller than the other man, he tilted his chin up a little to seem even taller and bigger. The hand holding the glass of wine gripped the crystal tighter and tighter.  
"You came to mock me then," he replied, mouthing the words through his teeth. "If you wanted to laugh in my face, spare yourself. I have people for this."  
The amount of venom in his words has decreased compared to the beginning of their…. confrontation.

Damon tasted the drink again, and when it irritated his throat, he deliberately let out a murmur of euphoria he had just experienced.  
"You could’ve been the one squeezing those sounds out of my throat." he muttered then, pointing at him with the hand in which he still held the glass. "If only you weren't so self-centered."  
He gave him a moment and twisted his mouth into an inverted horseshoe in mock sadness as the latter began his argument, apparently barely controlling his anger.  
"Are you really paying people to insult you?" Raven asked, raising both eyebrows for a second. "I'll do it for free, and much better."  
The moment the last words left his mouth, Damon's dark eyebrows frowned slightly, and his head tilted to the right.

Although Klaus tried to hide his feelings under a thick mantle of anger - he was probably exposed long ago.  
"Thank you for giving me a reason so that I could shoot you without any problems," he tried to strike the mockery tone. "Invasion of private property, with the gun in a hand..." His hand shot towards Damon and grasped his forearm, on which under the layer of black shirt, was a weapon ready to be used in just a second. "… is a crime. Especially when it comes to the head of state"

"Ugh". A soft sound escaped from his throat as a strong hand gripped his forearm, almost spilling his drink. "In what hand?"  
The man raised an eyebrow, staring questioningly at the taller man without letting him suppress himself.  
"Whatever I have with me is hidden under my sleeve, as you probably feel." He felt too; the sharp point of the knife digging into his skin by the way Klaus's fingers pressed against its hilt. "Unless you've already gotten phantoms from being in your solitude for so long. Or maybe there was also an opium in the bathtub apart from essential oils?"

Mikaelson did not release Damon's arm. Instead, he pulled him closer and raised his arm up to his chest.  
"Go ahead. Do it. Now, as long as I'm in the mood." A strange smile twisted his lips; then he burst out laughing merry. "I forgot you were a coward."

Damon moved even closer as he pulled him toward himself, and winced slightly as the blade finally cut his pale skin. But then he raised the corners of his mouth in a smile without tearing his arm out. Instead, he shifted the glass from one hand to the other, putting the rim to his mouth and finishing its contents. He put the empty vessel on a nearby piece of furniture, which he was able to reach.

The king narrowed his eyes in pleasure as he felt the dampness of warm blood seep through the fabric of the man's shirt. He liked that Damon was, as it were, trapped in this situation. No more than he did, of course. But that must have been enough for him now.

Taller man's fingers effectively blocked Damon's ability to actually pull the gun out of his sleeve, so he couldn't reach for it directly. With one hand locked in a grip, it would also be difficult to properly handle the stun gun. Which didn't change the fact that he didn't really want any of those things.

Damon tilted his head back and laughed. Cleanly and vibrantly.  
"Why should I make everything easier for you?" he asked, smacking immediately in disappointment. "And where would the fun be in that?"

The next words that left Damon's insolent mouth made Mikaelson bitterly amused. The man smirked, still not taking his eyes from the shorter man's face. He took another step towards Damon. He could smell his scent perfectly now.  
"Even if I ask you nicely?" Klaus said in a voice only slightly louder than a whisper.  
His nostrils moved, inhaling the man's fragrance. His rage gave way to heavy tension.

Another mocking smirk crossed the raven's face, which vanished immediately, as he rolled his eyes.  
"Since when does Klaus Mikaelson asks for anything?" His eyebrow shot up and his lips parted slightly. "Is it not enough that you lost your humor, but also softened?"  
Not for a moment was he going to let go of the next verbal bullets he fired at every possible opportunity, like with a machine gun. By the way, it was hard to find a similar weapon these days. It was probably used only in further circles of the State. The richer ones were more concerned with nuclear and renewable energy.

Salvatore parted his lips that had just been moistened with alcohol, making a soft purr.  
"You still have a minimal desire for madness or has the power already killed everything in you?" he asked. "I admit that it would be disappointing, to say the least."

One moment there were very little space between them, and the next there was the crackle of a glass of wine hitting the ground as Klaus released it from his hand. Yet another - perhaps a little more than a fraction of a second after the previous one - Damon's body hit the wall and the man landed pressed face down against it. Klaus's body pressed against him from behind, locking his arm in the lever behind his back.  
The sound of breaking glass distracted Salvatore from Klaus so effectively that he let his guard down a bit, and thus allowed the golden-haired man to take a bolder step. He made a noise that spoke of the uncomfortable position he was in a moment later. He moved right away just enough to test the man's oppressive strength and measure his chances of getting out of the trap.

Damon laughed nervously, simultaneously contracting himself to play defeated.  
"Okay, I admit it, you have me." he said, finally stopping fidgeting. "You've always been stronger, I can't deny you that."  
Mikaelson did not give up his rage.

"Are you talking about disappointment?" Klaus hissed at Damon's ear, almost brushing his lips against it. He inhaled his scent again, which was now mingling with his own.  
Immediately afterwards Raven felt the hot breath of the man around the sensitive auricle, which made his body tremble involuntarily. Damon's jaws tightened, as he tried to stop his body from reacting, hoping Klaus didn't notice.  
"No one is more disappointed than me to see you alive, when I hoped you were dead and therefore you don't come back."

"Ouch." he commented briefly. "What would the clergy say upon hearing such hypocritical words leaving your mouth?"  
In fact, of course, he didn't care what the clergy in the State would say, and Mikaelson probably knew that. It didn't change the fact that Damon just wanted to distract him and that he was changing position a bit, gathering strength …

A second later, using all the strength of his body, he staned firm and pushed the man away from him, turning quickly towards him and only then yanked his hand out of his grip. Before Mikaelson could react in any way, Salvatore gripped the fingers of his intact arm around his neck, and now it was him who pushed the taller guy against the wall without sparing his head a hit against the hard surface.

"Lots of people tried to finish me off." Damon growled, but he didn't come close to the taller's man ear. "But as well as you should have known long ago, killing me is not that easy."  
Damon looked Klaus in the eye, pressing him against the wall with his other forearm so that he couldn't just break free.

"You can lie to yourself or to your stupid sister." he also said, more gently this time. "I know perfectly well that in the depths of your still beating heart you have missed me all these years, and seeing my face again, you feel indescribable relief." Salvatore smirked as he read him like an open book.  
"Just admit it." he lowered his voice almost to a whisper, looking at him with a slightly raised eyebrow.

A trapped now man glared back at the brunet.  
"If you think so, you're even stmore stupid than Rebekah," he growled venomously.  
Of course Damon was right. Oddly often, he was the one who was right, which Klaus tried to disagree with, and it was the other's way out anyway. Back then, Klaus accepted the failure bravely, relishing it even at times. Because the only person whose victories he recognized was Damon. Why? Because no one else has ever tried to fight Klaus. Not because he was stronger and better, but because reputation did its job. They were afraid to put Klaus at risk, knowing what disobedience to his family involved. And maybe it was in Damon's blood to break out of this pattern, but Klaus was grateful to him for it.

"I hate you," he muttered indistinctly, as he was unable to utter too many words due to the strong pressure of Damon's arm on his throat.  
Damon always chose his offensive moves carefully, and knew enough anatomy to know exactly where to press his fingers and how hard to do this to make his opponent gasp with his own breath. He was tempted to do the same with Klaus. After all, Damon was never just plain angry. He was taking revenge. And that evening, many long, unpleasant words were spoken. You could even say that the fair-haired man deserved all the aggression on his part. Especially since he was the first to move a pawn in this game.

"Mhm. Spare me this charade." Raven said patiently, and seeing that fair-haired man had a problem talking, he loosened his grip a little. "You're still the same. You always try to keep up semblances, hide with help of rage and anger, like a little boy."  
He fixed the blue iris eyes on him with new power, so that he would know that Salvatore had carefully seen him, that he knew his every move and every thought.  
"Regardless of the circumstances, you are still trying to show your best side, even when there is only a ruin behind this beautiful facade." he whispered more gently.

He didn't speak for a moment either, letting Klaus's mind seething with old memories and unwanted thoughts and in that pleasant silence to process the whole situation. That not only Damon's words would reach him, but also their meanings.  
“I'm not going to kill you.” he assured him. “Yet. Not because of fear, you can be sure of that. After all, it's not like I have anything to lose.”  
A smile lit his face again, and his eyes gleamed.

Knowing that the man's grip had loosened and he was free to speak again, Klaus took the opportunity.  
"You should know I'm not that easy to kill," he repeated Damon's words from moments ago. “But it will be great fun watching you throw yourself caught in the same snares you set for yourself.”

In an instant, Klaus pushed Damon away, now closing his fingers on his throat in a firm, confident grip. In the next second he pushed Raven onto the floor, with his hand still around his throat. In contrast to dark-haired man, he did not treat Salvatore with kid gloves. Niklaus's fingers were clenched tight enough not only to reduce the supply of oxygen, but also to cause pain, on which the victim reacted with a groan.

"Because of our friendship, which I reluctantly admit once existed ..." Mikaelson began in his omniscient tone, leaning over the breathless Damon. "... I will give you a friendly advice."  
The fair-haired man smiled mysteriously, only slightly reducing his grip on Salvatore's trachea.  
''If you actually plan to kill me, now you have another chance and I advise you to take it. Otherwise… I'm afraid you won't find such an opportunity for the second time soon. If ever."

This time he wasn't trying to fool himself or Damon. This was not what Klaus was dealing with. This was not the sort of thing his whole family had dealt with. And it was not a colorful spectacle at all. At least from what Klaus remembered. Attacks on his father and mother happened more than once in the past. In addition, they were not in full power then. The events of that time were a perfect testimony to how the Mikaelsons got where they were now.

''But I must admit that your desperation is impressive and I think it is justified. After what happened to Stefan, I even believe that you went on a suicide mission here. '' Klaus smiled sweetly and finally let go of the neck of the shorter man, getting up himself and sitting on the soft couch. ''But I have a better proposition for you.''  
He reached for the wine-filled glass and took a small sip.

Damon, on the other hand, breathed a sigh as the hand disappeared from his neck, wanting to replenish the oxygen debt that was provided by Klaus's courtesy. The first breath, however, was too fast, violent, and deep so it resulted in a palpable pain in his lungs, making Salvatore wince with another moan before rolling over to his side, coughing and breathing heavily. Only when he managed to calm down a bit, he picked oneself up from the floor, ignoring the dark spots that appeared in front of his eyes.

Raven himself reached for the previously emptied glass, immediately walking slowly to the bar and refilling it with burbon. He did not plan to ask for permission, it was neither his style nor appropriate to the situation. Besides, he had to lubricate his sore throat with something. Immediately, however, he walked over to the rest of the room, and when Klaus sat down on one couch, he went over to the one in front of him. He drank two sips of the drink, then lay down on the matress, placing the glass on his hip and leaning it against the oblique abdominal muscle, placing one hand behind his head, under the nape of his neck. The other, his forearm cut open, was deliberately stretched out so that the gathering blood dripped onto Mikaelson's bright rug. The wound was definitely deep enough to bleed the perfect amount of blood from him for this petty malice.

The man stared hard at Klaus, who was in front of him, not moving so as not to spill the alcohol on himself. His facial muscles tightened as he mentioned Stefan. The wound was still too fresh to be unimpressed by scratching it, but that was exactly what he had assumed. As if it hadn't bothered him at all.  
''Where did the idea come from that from all the families in your peculiar kingdom I will be dealing with you? " The question was accompanied by a specific combination of eyebrow movements.  
He didn't trust him. Of course he didn't trust him. How could he? They haven't spoken for years, and this moment ago almost knocked his shoulder out, and then sadistically choked him. The throat still hurt after this incident, and his back and head after hitting the floor.

Klaus smiled darkly as he saw this "unresponsive" reaction to the mention of Stefan. Not only did Damon know him, he also knew Damon. This sword had two blades and both wounded to blood.  
''I thought you didn't mind negotiating with me.'' He replied with one eyebrow raised. ''Has something changed?''  
Though Klaus's words were quite unambiguous and suited to Damon's narrative, there was an eternal truth to it. The truth was, Klaus was now sure that neither of them would be able to kill the other by himself.

"You know that I can give you more than the others and I am the only one who keeps his word." He muttered.  
Some may have had reservations about the latter, unsupported by nothing more than a dislike of Klaus, but anyone who has dealt with him for real… knew he was a man of honor.  
And maybe it didn't fit the Mikaelson halo or the persona in power, but Damon knew Klaus was telling the truth when he said he would keep his word.  
"I want to remind you that just a moment ago I was a liar and a coward to you." Damon said, raising his glass for a moment as if for a toast, taking a sip, and putting it back on his body. ''What's changed here? Had I cut off your oxygen supply for too long a moment earlier? ''  
The question might have been a bit ironic since he choked Klaus for only a moment and much more delicately than he choked him a moment ago. The dark-haired man smirked, however, as he glanced at the man. But he immediately shifted his gaze to his hand, as well as the beautiful scarlet dropsof blood dripping onto the floor. He had always found the sight of blood peculiar in some way. He liked it.

Hearing the taunt, Mikaelson only rolled his eyes. He wasn't surprised by Damon's… incisive tongue. He knew it, liked it, was friends with this tounge. He found it harmless and funny. In fact, why was Klaus paying attention to Damon at all? Those many years ago? Probably because of his rebellious attitude. He was impressed with something he couldn't have had. He was never able to rebel against the family hated by many.  
''You do not trust me." Klaus quickly understood what might possibly be driving the man lying on his couch. '' Well, neither do I. Fortunately, I know that you should distance yourself from your private life when doing business. And this is nothing but business. "  
He didn't know if he could convince Damon to be on his side. He didn't know him as well as he used to, and while some things remained the same, too long had passed.

'' Mhm. " Damon muttered as the king spoke again. '' And what in this world can you actually give me that will change my plans? Wealth? Ladies? Epic orgasm? ''  
He snorted, rolling his eyes. It's been long since he's given up craving for simple things. Everything that once brought him joy crumbled to pieces when he lost his meaning in life, as his brother gave his last breath in his arms. And while he now seemed to have found another target, he was really just lost. So he kept clunging to the last thing that kept him sane, not ready to give it up.  
'Tell me ...' he began, finally tearing his eyes away from the scarlet blood drops and moving it to Mikaelson. '' You got a split personality from longing, right? That's why you suddenly offer me business. ''

Klaus rolled his eyes. He was almost amused by Damon's words. After all, he could have given him all three things in the morning, so it's no real feat. Neither of them was so reckless as to ask the other for such trivial things. The stakes were greater, much greater. It was Klaus' life after all. And since this was the subject of their discussion, it was necessary to propose an equally high price. What will be difficult ...  
''Your problem is that you think you've finally found purpose in your boring, sad life, but getting rid of me is not the solution. Do you really think any of those hurdles you've been dealing with recently will be able to get rid of all the rest of my relatives after chasing me out as well? '' Klaus snorted, amused by Damon's naivety.'' All people are perverse and false when it comes to stakes as high as power. ''

A tabby oriental cat jumped onto Klaus' lap. The man's hand settled over her body as it settled comfortably on his thighs.  
''I'd like you to meet Kismet.'' he began, still looking over at Damon. '' You know what her name means? It doesn't matter, because I'll explain it to you anyway. Her name means fate, an inevitable destiny. Something you can't stop and set in motion before you even came into this world. So believe me when I say I know I'm not destined to stay in ruling for too long. ''

Klaus was turgid at times, and no one could deny it after hearing the words he had spoken a moment earlier. Another cat from Kismet - darker and less sophisticated - began to twirl curiously against Damon's hand, blood dripping from it.  
''Brutus….'' Klaus said softly. "Leave Damon and let him make a choice on his own terms. He has not heard my proposal yet. ''

Salvatore moved his blue gaze to Brutus, and as the cat's face was near his bloodstained hand, Damon stretched out his long fingers to gently stroke the creature's head. He liked cats. Of all the animals in the world, these little creatures seemed to be the most worthy of his respect.  
'’So what is your offer?" It happened; he finally asked a question that Mikaelson had to wait a long time for.  
But what did he expect? He could not put off this moment indefinitely, only out of sheer malice. He was in turn drawn to the question by simple, simple curiosity.

Oh, yeah. The question was finally asked, which Klaus did not hide, was waiting for. Damon wanted to know, so maybe he was considering this scenario where they might… pan out again.  
''It's been many years since your father deprived you of the prospect of a decent life, but just as he could have deprived you of it, I am able to rebuild it. You will regain your good name, you will have a chance to fight fairly for my place when I am not here anymore ... '' he said, stroking the cat and pretending to think about what he would like to get in return.  
In fact, both of them had known what Klaus wanted for a long time. Well, at least they knew about a one thing.

''And you, in return, cut yourself off from these corrupt emissaries and let me go to the ball by the thread and eliminate the traitor. Not as a ruler, but as, say, a caring citizen. What do you think? Sounds good, right? ''  
Klaus smiled as he moved the cat to the couch and as he got up from his seat and slowly walked over to Damon.  
''You can also cross whatever we had in common with your mistrust, reluctance and your arrogant disposition and walk away from here right now. '' The man crouched down against Damon's face lying on the couch and gave him a smile. '' Do you want to play fair or cheat?”

'' I'm not arrogant. At most ... '' Damon frowned as he searched for the right word. ''A bit audacious.''  
He couldn't immediately nod to him, agree, give up. He just couldn't. It would be too easy, even if Niklaus had known long ago how these negotiations were to end.  
However, it did not change the fact that the dark-haired man was simply too proud, too malicious and too stubborn to immediately react like a human and not prolong it unnecessarily. The mere thought of saying the words that would leave his throat was almost a physical pain.

Raven swayed up on his elbows, using his stomach muscles without spilling the drink from the glass on his hip. He wanted his face to actually be level with the fair-haired's face and looked into his eyes, abandoning the cat, which he was gently stroking his head with his fingers until now.  
"Yes and no." He finally said, finally dispelling all doubts as if two contradictory words actually explained anything. '' Yes, I am able to agree to your proposal, but only to a certain extent. You see, cutting myself off suddenly from the rest of your opponents is just stupid. What kind of message do you think I will send them if I suddenly change my plans completely after I arrived at your residence?"  
Also, Salvatore felt that overall it might be crucial to give up the information these people were able to give him. Which, of course, did not change the fact that a game on two fronts would certainly be much more dangerous than simply being allowed to act and let go.

"They'll think you're a traitor, and they'll be right." Klaus muttered, not moving a millimeter as Damon moved closer and caught up with his face. ''But so they are, so what's the difference? They should know the risks. Otherwise…''  
Klaus reached for the glass of liquor resting on the man's stomach and held it under his mouth.  
'' … don't they know rumors about our alleged romance? '' Klaus huffed with amusement and finished off the rest of the alcohol in the pot. Then he set the glass down nearby. ''Even your father knew about them. ''  
Klaus was sure of it, although neither father ever came with a complaint. One day, however, the elder Salvatore began to dislike him so much that it was impossible to get out of thin air.

Irregardless of whether or not Damon accepts the offer now - he will certainly accept it. Klaus learned to be patient. A bit. But if Damon agreed to their deal now, he would even forgive him those years of separation and the intention to coup. He didn't want to show it or speak it out loud, oh no. He was going to continue to wade through the position of power and glory. Despite the fact that feelings prevailed.  
''You know very well that only "part" of it does not satisfy me. " Klaus smiled confidently.

He wanted Damon to choke out the words, swallow his pride, and let them finally forget this nasty incident. And then… no one knows what will happen. Klaus had no plans for the rest of the night yet. There was only one thing he was sure of – he’ll never let Damon get lost in the crowd again. He will not run away, hide and avoid what awaits him. It was destiny and Klaus believed it. Maybe he shouldn't, because something like this had led more than one blind man to the edge of the cliff, but Klaus… liked the risk. And right now, everything about Damon's visit embodied that risk he had wanted to taste for years.

Damon looked the man in the eye. He did not expect the latter to say right away that then everything was fine and they could go out into the world. However, he had no intention of agreeing to a deal where all the conditions did not suit him. And total passivity definitely did not suit him. After a while, his eyes moved to the man's lips, still glistening with the alcohol that had given them his gentle caress just a moment ago. In a split second, Damon's hand went to Klaus's face, finally cupping his chin. He lifted it up a little, his thumb sliding gently over the man's lower lip to wipe off any remaining alcohol and tease him a bit.  
''You know passivity is not exactly my style. '' He said, drawing his face closer to him. ''For me to agree, you would have to make it up to me later in some not-so-subtle way.”  
The closing of their contract was approaching surprisingly fast. Quite smooth, too. Klaus knew, however, that Damon would want to make adjustments even if his tone or… actions didn't suggest it. He willingly surrendered to them, though, almost melting inside as Damon's cold hands touched his face. He did not take his eyes off the man.  
It was funny how in less than an hour they almost managed to kill each other, argue and make peace. Funny, but not weird, because from what Klaus remembered it always worked that way. Their relationship from years ago was mainly based on arguments, struggles and swearing from the worst. And they were much younger then, so the anger did not stay for long. They didn't outgrow it a bit.

Klaus could get angry with Damon until Damon entered his life with his shoes and his taunts. Then all the anger passed and something else replaced it. Something that could now be seen with the naked eye and whose density could be cut more easily with a knife than the thin skin at the wrists. ''No such a way.'' Klaus said quieter, smiling defiantly.  
They both knew that, in the case of Klaus, all holds were allowed. It was enough to justify your position well. And since Klaus was quite a sensible person on some issues, he sometimes got the other side's position. Rarely, because rarely, but no one will say never. So what if most of these cases fell within one particular person, who by chance was the same person Klaus felt the breath on his lips.  
Receiving not necessarily the answer he would have liked, Damon's dark eyebrow went up, and his lips parted in an expression of mild astonishment. Immediately, however, the man looked at the fair-haired defiantly.  
''We will see." he said softly. ''After all, you've succumbed to me many times before. "

There was nothing embarrassing about it. In giving in. Yet Klaus scowled at the thought that someone might find out that he was succumbing to Damon. Not only in bed, but also in their relationship. At first glance, it looked like a fight for dominance, all the banter and arguments, but in fact, Klaus rarely wanted to win at any cost. Unless he felt particularly pressed against the wall with his superiority complexes. Of course, one might say that Klaus' superiority complex never sleeps or rests, but when the variable Damon joined the equation, the whole world turned upside down. And Klaus liked to lose sometimes. Which would never have happened in any other case.

It was undeniable that Niklaus Mikaelson had some kind of weakness for Damon. Where others he would probably tear if they looked at him crookedly, Salvatore remained inviolable. He could always afford more, and he liked it.  
Damon also liked the way Klaus looked at him right now. As if his mind had brief visions of their shared past, as well as everything it carried with it. As if a thought had already blossomed in him that would later allow him to do more. With Damon, he never had to pretend. He could be a true version of himself without all that mask of anger and sometimes indifference. The man simply did not have to be afraid of his own feelings, rejection or misunderstanding.

''If you're ready to sign the pact, I keep the backup copies in my locker by my bed.'' He said even more quietly and licked his lips. He felt the faint taste of the remnants of alcohol and Damon's salty touch. The next second, he got close enough to Damon's face that a twitch was enough to bring their lips together.  
At the moment, however, Salvator's attention was focused elsewhere. A moment ago he could feel the touch of delicate, soft skin. Klaus's mouth was so close to his own that it would be a pity not to use it. But Damon was never famous for making sensible and rational decisions, so he decided to delay the moment until the tension rose to such an extent that neither of them would be able to resist anymore.

Salvatore decided to change position; still being the lower part on the couch, he decided to move closer to the fair-haired man. He wanted to lean on his thigh, but his hand inadvertently slipped straight onto the man's crotch, probably effectively teasing it. But Damon still had enough control of his own body to keep his weight largely still on the couch mattress. He looked at his hand located in a rather strategic place, and then into emerald eyes.  
"Oops." He wasn't sorry at all and you could hear it in the tone of his voice. "Pardon."

He remembered the rest of the good manners. Only after a moment did he remove his hand as well, sliding it back onto his thigh, but this time neatly enough to keep it in place.  
"So to get the paperwork done, jump for that pact." he muttered.  
Then he brought a hand to his cheek, brushing his lips lightly with his own, but still not kissing them. The best for last.

Fortunately, the poker face of tense indulgence did not twitch a millimeter as Damon didn't subtly irritate his crotch. Klaus, however, made sure not to jump or even tremble, because it is not fitting for someone like him to openly show his agitation to an insolent tormentor.  
"You do realize I don't have any pics and I was just trying to get you to bed?" he asked, this time trembling still slightly from the gentle touch of his lips by the latter.

Damon was a cruel pimper, which didn't surprise Klaus at all. Once upon a time, those few years ago, he felt terribly irritated about this man's behavior. He had to chase him for a long time, trying not to let him know that he was chasing Damon. And Damon used it to harass Klaus and drive him crazy. But he grew more patient. Something like that hardly impressed him anymore.  
So he got to his feet and walked unceremoniously towards the bedroom, throwing off his bathrobe, which was his only cover, on the way.  
"Are you waiting for a written invitation?" He asked, then disappeared through the bedroom door on the other side of the spacious living room.

Seeing him get up, he took his hand off his thigh, then lifted his chin to look at him. He followed him to the door, sitting down on the couch himself, slowly reaching for the glass he'd been drinking in from his bourbon earlier.  
"How subtle." He rolled his eyes, smiling with the corner of his mouth, and surveyed his entire body ostentatiously.

"Wait a minute.…. " He winked at him, carefully ignoring the fact that he had been able to explore Mikaelson's apartment before, so much so that he now knew the way of his bedroom well and was able to find it without difficulty afterwards. Still, he preferred to go with him. But first he went to the bar and for the third time that evening he filled his glass with alcohol, taking a sip at once, then handing it to Klaus, following him.

"So you prepare yourself nicely, and in the meantime I will use the bathroom and fix my forearm." his back and moving it down his entire spine, unhurriedly teasing his skin there.  
Later, instead, he placed a short kiss on his neck and disappeared into the bathroom connected to the bedroom. He preferred to cover the wound with a bandage. While playing, so he preferred to cover up the wound.

Prepare? Klaus's eyebrows coiled in nervous consternation. Was it another provocation? The man looked around. He felt a bit… exposed to the wind. It took him a long time to wonder, because Damon had already disappeared through the door to Klaus's private bedroom. Instinctively, he took a step in that direction, but stopped himself from doing the next one. He just haven’t thought about helping Damon heal the wounds he had inflicted on him, did he? And yet. There was no mistake. Klaus sighed deeply and followed the man.

He moved quickly as he passed Damon bustling about the bright bathroom. He immediately reached out, where the first aid kit was.  
"You're not left-handed, I guess." he muttered as if that was an explanation for his appearance and wanting to… help.  
It was faster that way, of course. If he does. He waited for Damon to take off his clothes and… harness. Then he started nursing activities. And maybe his expression wasn't unhappy enough for the occasion, so he fixed it by quickly dipping pieces of gauze in disinfectant and rubbing it on the wound he had inflicted a moment earlier. In a strange way, he wasn't proud of himself.

''Do not look at me like this. You would only do more harm ... "he explained awkwardly, feeling the piercing gaze of the black-haired man.  
A few seconds later, he was cleaning the wounded area with a strong disinfectant. He applied a special dressing to hold the cut in place so that it would heal better, and he also applied an elastic bandage to protect the wound from irritation.

"You want a brave patient sticker for this or will you do it?" Klaus asked, putting the first aid kit back in its place.  
"I want a kiss on the forehead." Salvatore said with a one-sided smile. "And a few other things. And you are going to give them all to me." 

That said, he walked over to the man and pushed him against the wall, his hand around his neck, not painfully or harmful this time, but only to pull his face closer; the other hand was on his hip. He ran his tongue over his lower lip, and as he parted his lips, Damon didn't wait for him to grant him permission to enter; he slid his tongue between the soft, pink skin and ran it over the palate of the taller man, a moment later pressing his tongue against the one belonging to him.

He began the slow dance of their tongues, which immediately turned into a passionate struggle, just as a spark turns into a flame. A longer time rapidly penetrated the inside of his mouth, setting the rhythm in which they were to move, the moment in which they were to draw their breath. His kiss was passionate, aggressive and downright hungry. A hungry man whom he had not been allowed to taste for so many years.

Klaus' sex life since Damon disappeared has not been particularly exciting at all. Rarely did he have the time or strength for such excesses. Please do not confuse this with loyalty, because it was not a matter of his hesitation at all. After all, he wasn't even sure if Damon would be back. He was even convinced that he would never see him again. So why would he hold back, right? But that didn't change one fact - Klaus was hungry. And he didn't realize how much until Damon stood in front of him.  
Maybe not at the first moment, when he wanted to kill him, cut him into pieces and feed the cats. But then everything was moving in the direction Klaus was involuntarily striving for. Therefore, he did not object as his body was pushed against the cold tiled bathroom wall. He was even eager to greet this gesture with a certain amount of gratitude. But he also had no intention of succumbing to that bandit so easily.

At first he returned the kiss with the same commitment as the one had started. Later, however, he decided to modify their positions. In no time, Damon found his back to the wall, Klaus's face in front of his own. The man's breathing was quick, and his eyes glowed with excitement.  
"Hope you didn't think we were going to have sex." he said, smiling maliciously.  
Then he moved closer to Damon and stretched out his long tongue to cup his mouth imperiously. He was going to dictate the next kiss for himself. That's why he did so. And it was not any worse than the previous one.  
Niklaus Mikaelson, of the Mikaelson family, was the only person in this world to whom Damon was actually willing to relinquish control and show himself from a slightly more submissive side. It didn't change the fact that he still had to work for it first. Salvatore threaded his hand through the man's hair and pulled it hard enough to tear him away from his lips. Once they were able to meet each other's eyes, he still didn't let go of him, merely leaned in as if to kiss him again, but just as their lips were almost touching, he pushed his mouth sharply away. Then he looked at him, tilting his head to one side, giving him a mischievous look.  
"Have you changed your mind or do you need any stimulus?" He asked after a while. "Because it seems your little friend doesn't need any special encouragement."

He also moved his hand from his back lower, then moved to the front of his body, where he gently stroked the man's underbelly. He moved lower and lower, exploring these parts of his body as if he did not know them perfectly well. At the same time, he deliberately avoided the touch of his manhood, knowing that touching a millimeter from her would give him more satisfaction. Maybe not Klaus, who would definitely want something more, but to him for sure.  
Klaus snorted a soft, slightly malicious laugh. He still didn't take his frozen gaze away from Damon's face. The man not only recognized his weak points, but also became his weak point himself. But nothing about Klaus indicated he was losing his control. If Damon had that impression… it meant Klaus wanted it to happen.

Things have changed since they broke up years ago. The last time they saw each other, Klaus was less than twenty, he was just entering the role of a man and his skin was not as thick as he is today. So he not only learned to hide weak spots from unwanted eyesight, but also got rid of some that Damon was once aware of. This could only be a game where Klaus was trying to get his plan done. But Damon probably knew that Klaus was both a tactician and strategist. And he did not lose his vigilance for a moment.

"I allow you to gain a bit of control, but don't mistake it for weakness, love.” Mikaelson muttered, brushing against Damon's lips as he did so. "And when I want something, I reach for it."  
Then his hand shot to Damon's throat and his fingers gripped it painfully. Not with all the strength in his hand, but with enough force to take Damon's breath away. After a while he was dragging his friend in the direction from which they had come some time earlier, namely towards the bedroom, where he threw the body without most of the breath onto the bed.  
"Today, in turn, I want you to finally know your place." For a moment he relished the sight of his own physical strength triumphing over the weaker Damon.  
Yes, a lot has changed since they were kids. And now Damon was going to really see what a terrible sadist had grown into the degenerate and sociopath he had once known.

Damon opened his mouth, wanting to throw some kinky text about reaching, pointing to the right place for it, but didn't have time to say anything because of a hand tightening his throat in a painful grip prevented him from doing so. His breath caught in his throat, and a sound of discomfort escaped from between his lips that did send a shiver down his loins. Though he would rather not admit it just like that.  
His hand stopped clenching on the pale strands, instead it went to Klaus's wrist, even if only to pull him away and learn the pressure of slender, strong fingers on his windpipe. His efforts were found to be breathing poorly, and he decided to take deep breath only when he fell heavily, thrown onto the mattress. The second his lungs were refilled with new oxygen, he felt a sharp pain in them that made his face twitch for a moment.

The black-haired man's chest was moving quickly and unevenly, wanting to replenish the oxygen debt that had arisen at the very kind initiative of Niklaus. His gaze was a bit hazy, at least until he blinked a few times, sharpening it, and finally glancing at his tormentor.  
''My place is at your side.'' Salvatore said, a bit hoarsely. ''Wasn't that the agreement?"  
After a moment, Damon rose to his elbows, displaying taut, sculpted abs. His cold gaze was hard, defiant. The man loved to provoke others, and he had a feeling that at that moment the dark side of Klaus woke up from his sleep, his superiority complex attacked, and he himself needed to show his omnipresent domination, not only as the head of the state, but also as an outstanding lover. 

''Your place is at best below me, Salvatore." Klaus hissed, trapping the dark-haired man under his naked body. ''After tonight, maybe you will finally remember it."  
Mikaelson reached up to the black shirt that framed the smaller man's chest, then tore the fabric to reveal a pale, muscular torso.  
''I don't know, my memory is really bad. "Damon rolled his blue eyes. ''You will have to really make an effort."  
Klaus's hand once again went to the throat of the bold young man. How many little malice will escape this evening from between those soft, delightful lips? How long will it take for him to finally learn that Niklaus Mikaelson is better not to provoke? Especially in the bedroom.

At the moment, Mikaelson felt like an animal. Like a hungry animal that has not been able to taste its victim's sweetness for a long time. At the moment, his victim was Damon Salvatore, choking on his own breath. How long had he waited for this opportunity to clench his claws on him, sink his fangs into him, and take from him all that he wanted and could not take over the past few years. So if Raven counted on the delicacy of his tormentor even for a moment, he was wrong. Mikaelson finally got what he wanted so badly. Just as he couldn't wait any longer, he wasn't going to hold back. He just wanted to take him, destroy him, ruin him, and then pick up all those pieces of him, just to them again.

''Ugh." A broken moan escaped from the dark-haired man's throat.  
But the strong fingers didn't loosen their grip. On the contrary; arranged in the letter V, pressed painfully on the most sensitive places.  
''Don't you think that my patience is endless. It is true that I have turned a blind eye to your antics many times, but it must stop eventually." Klaus snarled directly into the shorter man's ear. ''The time has just come. Therefore, now I will take you like the whore you are, and you will gratefully accept whatever I choose to give you."

Damon gasped as the grip finally left his throat. He then coughed, rolling aside as far as Klaus' hips on his own would allow him. He also blinked rapidly to ward off the black spots that appeared in front of his eyes. Klaus never just choked him. His grip was always perfectly balanced; caused pain, made him discomfort, took his breath away. All this until Raven's eyes dimmed and he began to drift away. Right now, however, he was usually abruptly brought back to the conscious world; what he was left with was a sore throat, a burning pain in his lungs and a feeling of complete loss of control. However, he would be lying if he said that he did not like such treatment. Because he did. He loved it even, but just when it came to Klaus.

Mikaelson was right about Damon's activities while still in exile. The young boy grabbed on to everything he could, just to be able to earn a few crowns, and also to provide for himself and, above all, his brother - Stefan. He had to look after him. After all, they only had each other, and he was older, so he was left with the sacrifice. So Raven at one point got involved in prostitution. So he was actually a whore, though not by choice. It was a pretty earning with this job. However, he also worked physically during the day and pleased his customers at night. All this to keep his younger brother safe. In further districts, people could be brutal, angry, and possessive. He has found out about it more than once. So Damon was used to brutality and pain. He also had a sharp tongue and disposition that many wanted to temper. So he didn't think anything Klaus wanted to do with him now would be worse than what had happened to him all these years.

The dark-haired man felt a soft mouth slide down his bruised throat, then the teeth. The king was licking, sucking, kissing and biting pale skin, eager to mark him as his prey. He wanted Salvatore to get up the next day, glance at his reflection in the mirror, knowing perfectly well who he belonged to now.  
When, at one point, the snow-white teeth gnawed at the thin skin, Damon groaned softly, reflexively trying to pull away, but Mikaelson efficiently held him in place, showing his hand with jet-black strands. He tugged at his hair, tilting his throat back even more, exposing it and preparing for even more brutal caresses that followed.

Mikaelson for a moment broke away from tasting his lover for a moment to drag his gaze all over his body. Damon was beautiful. He was a true a masterpiece. So he was not surprised that he was so successful as a whore, that so many people wanted him for themselves, that so many of them wanted to have him and make him their own for at least one evening, taking care that he would not forget it.  
"Do you want to take a picture?" Klaus heard after a while and growled, annoyed that someone was interrupting him from seeing this masterpiece; More bruises, hickeys, and bites formed on pale neck, contrasting so wonderfully with the shades of red and purple with that alabaster skin.  
''Not yet, love." Klaus said, remarkably calm. "Firstly I’ll wreck you. I will take you apart piece by piece. And then, when you’ll be damaged, sweaty and begging for mercy, I will immortalize this moment with a picture or two. "  
He smiled sadistically.

"Maybe I'll make a movie?" He asked, staring at the cool blue irises. ''Would you like to see yourself in this state later? Trembling, weak, defeated, at my mercy and disgrace?"  
Damon didn't answer. But it didn't matter. Niklaus had cameras all over the house anyway, which meant he would actually make a film out of it. Maybe they will even watch it someday?  
Klaus Mikaelson was paranoid. At every moment in his life, he expected someone to cut his throat. Also at home. Therefore, even here, he had several well-hidden cameras in each room. Thanks to this, he knew about everything that was happening in his estate.

It didn't matter much at the moment, though. What mattered to Klaus right now was his lover's hot body, which…. Still was not enough naked? But he'll fix it in a moment. The hand slipped smoothly to the black pants, and their button was unfastened after a while, the zipper was pulled open, and they were pushed off their narrow hips. Underwear. It was the only thing that separated him from the most intimate parts of Damon's body. However, it was taken off faster than anyone could say quidditch. Then, at last, this delightful dark haired man was all for him. He could take him just as he wanted, as long as he wanted and as much as he wanted. And no one was going to stop him.

Salvatore was not aware of all his lover's thoughts. At that moment he wanted to feel the warmth of his body with his own, to touch him, to run his hands over his skin, to examine his hard muscles with his fingertips and taste his flesh. After a while, his hands were on the fair-haired's back, wandering over them boldly as if they didn't know the way at all. Yet they knew her perfectly well. So when Klaus attacked his neck and collarbones again, Damon moved his hands to the front of his body, rubbing his fingertips against his nipples before moving them towards his groin. His promised land. The dark-haired man's eyes sparkled with excitement, his cheeks were flushed, his lips parted when he reached for the prize.

Before Raven could take what he wanted, however, he felt a hard, firm grip on his wrists. He looked confused at Klaus, who brought his wrists to the grip of one hand, pressing them over his head, and reached for something. It turned out to be the thick leather belt that had previously clipping Salvatore's pants together. Now, however, the he was turned violently onto his stomach. His hands were still in the king's hold, behind his back, and he was unable to move.

''As I have already implied, you have no control here, Salvatore." The dark-haired man heard almost a growl close to his ear, and then felt a shiver shaking his whole body.  
Mikaelson, on the other hand tied the dark-haired man's hands behind his back with a quick, efficient movement, so that the material of the belt would painfully rub against his skin if he tried to free himself. And Damon, of course, tested the force of the belt tightening in his first instinct, then winced.  
''Ugh.'' He just mumbled, and then groaned, feeling his lover's hand hit his buttock. However, before he could say anything more, he also hurt his other buttock, which was later irritated by his nails for a better effect. ''Klaus. ''

''Should I also gag you?" the blonde hissed again directly into his lover's ear, previously entwining his hand in his hair and pulling his head back so that it was closer to his mouth. Damon swallowed hard, mumbling a vague ''No.''  
''That’s what I thought.'' Klaus growled. "Now be a good whore and lift your hips for me."  
Salvatore knew better than to hesitate. He carried out the command as quickly as possible in his position. He also remembered to keep the nice curve of his spine and the parting of his legs; all this to give his lover the best view possible.

Mikaelson must have liked the view, since he bit the soft skin of one of the dark-haired's buttocks after a while, and at the same time grabbed his hard member, from the tip of which the first drops of pre-ejaculate were already leaking. After a while king moved his tongue along the entire length of his lover’s penis, his its owner sigh. He immediately heard a broken groan as his full lips tightened around the pink head, and his tongue began to tease with circular motions. It took literally a few seconds for Niklaus to step back, deliberately leaving his lover unsatisfied. The man beneath him now felt a chill on his saliva-soaked crotch, which made him shiver, and a short groan escaped from his throat, showing the discontent at losing his caress.

Klaus, kneeling behind him, just laughed, then sighed, placing his hands on his lover's hips and pulling them imperiously towards him, unhurriedly but consistently filling him with all his length, listening to Damon's reaction and a soft moan. Niklaus knew perfectly well, that it was not the first time for the black-haired man, and he did not need any preparations. Besides, the man was too impatient. Salvatore had wasted too much of his time in unnecessary discussions before, and so now he was not getting time to adjust to the feeling of being filled by huge penis of his king. But he didn't have time to think about it any longer, because his instincts were calling him. The hot pressure he felt on his manhood made his breathing jerky, and his hips themselves pushed forward at an ever faster and more intense pace, as if he could not enjoy this wonderful feeling, as if he still had not enough….

Klaus alternately looked at Raven's back and buttocks as they shook supple under the sharp thrusts, hearing every moan that escaped his partner's mouth, and alternately closing his own eyes, sometimes giving himself a moment to let himself be carried away by the pleasure that he felt, overwhelming his whole body. Not only the penetration of the tight interior gave him pleasure, but also the heat that enveloped him, this lightness and this strange feeling that they were doing great together and completing each other's movements, each in their own position.

Salvatore cursed under his breath. It was so fucking exciting. In this position, with his hands behind his back, Damon was actually completely at the mercy of the blonde, which only turned him on more at that moment. The tension in his lower abdomen grew more and more unbearable with each successive hitting of his hips, and he had no way to vent it with a thick leather belt around his wrists.

His body was still arched into a nice arch; this one seems to instinctively take care every time to give his lover a nice sight, instead of a hunched back or otherwise distorted figure. He didn't even have to think about it, it came naturally to him, like breathing. Though he had a problem with him right now; he felt as if his breath was simply stuck in his throat, but this one was just shallow and jerky, and his chest was alternately rising and falling at a rapid pace. His cheeks had flushed a long time ago, and his skin was lightly streaked with a thin layer of sweat.

Niklaus himself let a warm, blissful sigh, ending with a soft groan, escape from his mouth as he stabbed him hard, to the end, and with one strong movement, he stayed like that for a while, and at the same time - since he had control over the dark-haired man's body - he moved his body in a circular way, making his penis reach various corners of his interior. He rubbed against him like this for a moment, unhurriedly but intensely, closing his eyes and tilting his head back with another delightful sigh, before he returned to the sharp pace that his lover seemed to please no less than he himself.

From between the damp, parted lips of Damon, there were alternating full and broken moans, when the sensations were too intense and he was not in control enough to ring out to the end. He also felt that he was already close, therefore he desperately wanted some friction between his legs, a momentary relief. The first drops of pre-ejaculate were already leaking from between his swollen, sore penis, slowly running down the length of his penis, bouncing with each stab. Salvatore gritted his teeth on the expensive silk sheets, wanting at least in this way a little better control and suppressing the groans that left his throat mercilessly.

"Oh, no, no, no." Damon heard the king's voice above him after a moment as the king emerged from him and leaned over his ear. "I want to hear you. I want to hear every groan that leaves your throat proclaiming that you belong only to me."  
Niklaus didn't even give him a chance to react to these words, for he immediately grabbed his hair and, tugging at it without any feeling, slipped quickly back into the Salvator's hot interior.

Mikaelson wanted to feel fulfilled; he was going to get as much pleasure as he wanted. His first move was a jerk - he entered him violently, all the way to the end, until his abdomen stopped on the dark-haired buttocks. He lasted for a short while, then let go of his hair, only to put his arm around the dark-haired man's neck. It made him smother him. In this position, he clung to him with his whole body, and because he was holding him tightly, he could start fucking that sweet, tight body. And he did it indolently, alternately fast and shallow and deep, but slower, panting and muttering contentedly into his lover's ear. He bit the pale neck again, too, bit into it, though this time not to make him bleed. He was now like a dog holding a bitch under him to keep it from running away.

At one point the fair-haired man reached up to his lover's chin and put his fingers to his mouth, playing with his tongue. He pushed his fingers down his throat until he felt Damon's esophagus tighten in a gag reflex. Then he withdrew his hand for a moment to let him breathe and pushed it in again, all to the accompaniment of the rapid, increasingly losing rhythm of the king's lower abdomen and testicles against the subject's buttocks.

Klaus's breath became shallow, jerky, sighs and grunts of pleasure coming out of his mouth more and more. He was already so close... Finally, every muscle in his body tensed for a brief moment, and the king, reaching out, suppressed his guttural groan in Salvatore's saliva-soaked mouth, leaning with one hand above his lover's head, and with the other he reached under his testicles to massage through the thin skin of the prostate of the new counselor. He himself came inside, pausing for a moment, and then made a few more decisive movements with his hips. Finally, he took the dark-haired penis, caressing it with quick, sure movements, until it finally came with a loud groan on his lips, bending his spine into a delightful arc.

After a while he fell back onto the soft sheets, but Klaus wasn't planning to let him rest right away. He bit the skin on his lover's neck, immediately marking his entire back with new birthmarks. His hand traveled between his legs, teasing the lover's penis so sensitive after a freshly experienced orgasm. He squeezed several more groans and jerks from his hip as he tried to escape from him. But he held him down, digging his fingers into his body and relishing the sweet torture while it lasted.

Finally, he unfastened the belt on Damon's wrists, and Damon was able to roll over onto his back and rub the chafed skin. They were both now on their backs on the bed, breathing heavily, allowing their bodies to recover.  
After a while, Damon got out of bed and went to the bathroom, where he was going to take a shower and clean himself. He left the door open, however, so that Klaus could look at him, possibly join him.

Klaus lay on the bed for a moment, calming his breath as he stared at the ceiling. A long time passed before he rose up on his elbows, looked down at his exposed manhood and felt a strange shame. It was as if he was tasting sin anew, gaining awareness of good and bad. So get up with a wet towel and he found his abandoned bathrobe.

Soon he returned to the bedroom with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. He walked unhurriedly to the door of the bathroom where Damon was taking his shower. His mouth twitched in an unreadable grimace, the source of which he tried to drown in a long gulp of alcohol. He leaned against the door frame and fixed his distant gaze on Damon, who was splashed with hot water. He watched him, slowly coming to the conclusion that he would be a fool to let his subconscious tell himself that he didn't wanted it. That Damon was just a bother and that he should get rid of him. That he couldn't trust him. That he knows too much about him, and that he might put him down. That it was his fault that he felt that way every time they touched and looked at each other. Damon didn't owe him anything. It's all Klaus's fault, his paranoia and his tragically wounded soul. And yet, as soon as Klaus tried to convince himself that he had some dignity left in him and that he had control over everything - Damon appeared and ruthlessly wrenched it all out of his hands. Klaus gave a peck of disapproval of his mind and drank again.

He couldn't let Damon disappear after all, which he had a sad tendency to do. That's why he sat down on an armchair in the bedroom and waited with a bottle in his hand until the silhouette of his friend stood in the bathroom door. In the end, he raised u his head to see it and greeted the unaware Damon with his omniscient, perverse smile.  
"I thought you fell asleep there." he said and tilted his head, trying at all costs to hide the accumulating doubts with his careless, ironic attitude. "At that time, I managed to find the means to seal our contract."  
As he spoke, he pointed to the bedside table. On the table there was a card with an elegantly calligraphed text. Pledge. A pen was ready for use beside it.  
"In exchange for a pardon, from today you take up the position of my personal adviser. In other words - you answer to me and try to do exactly what I ask you to do."

Now that they were not so close together, Salvatore preferred not to have such direct contact with him, so he walked over to his clothes on the floor and put on his pants first, then his shirt. Before he buttoned it up, however, he took care of the trouser belt, which he calmly tucked into all the belt loops, fastening the buckle as well, ignoring Niklaus for now. He only looked at him when he had his shirt buttons left to fasten, and he slowly reached for them with his slender fingers, one by one, depriving Klaus of the sight of his warm, naked body. When there were only three or four buttons left to fasten, he took the bottle from him and poured it into the glass from which he had been drinking earlier, taking a sip at once and wincing a little.  
"I decided to complete the pleasure." he murmured referring to the fun and comfort his little ritual had provided him. "Besides, you have some interesting things to wash in there. Do you want to smell it?"

The man raised an eyebrow as he moved closer to Klaus, but knowing that he would refuse, he simply handed him the alcohol bottle, putting his glass to his mouth again. Only after a while he looked at the table next to the fair-haired man, and the documents on it. So he had this peg. Interesting.... Damon didn't let him fool him that easily, though. He knew perfectly well how his naked trysts usually ended and what might be sitting in a man's mind now. After all, the last time they had sex.... Well.

It was their last time for quite a long time. Niklaus, on the other hand, was paranoid, so if Damon had to guess, he would have shot that he didn't want him to leave so quickly and leave him again. After all, such formalities as a stupid signature could be arranged the next day.  
'’It's a big house and a big bed, Klaus.'’ He said, looking at him and staring at his green irises. ''If you want me to stay.... just tell me.’'  
He still had no intention of making his life easier. For him it would probably be most comfortable for Salvatore to read his mind, politely silence it, and at the same time do what he wanted, without any mockery or mockery. Of course, he wasn't going to mock him right now, unless he asked for it. Nevertheless, he, too, had feelings, though he was apparently even less willing to admit it to himself.

Ha! What else! Klaus was a lot of things, but he was certainly not… straightforward. But it didn't even depend on him at all. He just couldn't reveal himself that much. He couldn't do it at all. It was hardly to expect Klaus to say anything openly of his own free will. Especially when it came to his feelings or desires. What is it? Opening it could only threaten, insult and sting.

As for Damon, he wasn't full of healthy mechanisms either. He dressed everything in irony and treated it as a joke. And this often irritated Klaus, who was trying to sublimate something to Damon, and he had to back away from it just as Damon turned it into a joke. Maybe the message was too… indirect at times, quite hidden and not at all readable, but Damon was so proud of knowing Klaus that he should have used it sometimes, right? Klaus, on the other hand, indulged in the slightest mischief at times and turned a blind eye to Damon's insolence, but not this time. Not now that he was in such a bad mood.

So he got up slowly and walked over to Damon with a venomous smile. He examined it from head to toe, not sparing a critical gleam in his eye.  
"A hundred hot showers are not enough for you to be able to sleep in my bed." he said, and looked pointedly at the pact.

"Ouch." Raven winced as if his comment did hurt him, then snorted. “It's okay then. Sleep alone."  
Saying this, he raised both eyebrows for a moment, then lifted one of them, until he finally shifted his gaze to a piece of paper, apparently prepared by Niklaus quickly. So he hoped that the contract was therefore inaccurate and left many gaps that he could confidently exploit later. After all, it's not like Mikaelson knew about legal loops. Nor would he have foreseen every situation in which Damon would be insubordinate in such a short space of time.

The sooner Salvatore signs the pact, the sooner they will go their ways. But Damon will be bound by this contract with Primus until Klaus tells him he can leave.  
And this thought made the blonde smile even wider and even... demonic. The thought that he finally had enough power to make someone stay by his side until he died and force him to be loyal. He raised his chin higher in response to this sudden glare. Damon had to sign it and then do one more thing and Klaus could do whatever he wanted with him.  
"Now be so kind as to sign it so we can get it all over with."

"Won't you write there also sex at any time of the day or night?" Damon asked ironically after he had briefly skimmed the contents. He also rolled his eyes before finally reaching for a heavy, well-made pen. However, he did not sign right away, hesitating literally until the last moment. Finally, however, he stated that he didn't have much choice, so he just signed, tossing the pen next to the document.  
He did not like that Mikaelson had so much fun making this deal. Such a thing could only mean that he had planned far more entertainment for him than he was initially able to admit. Though, on the other hand, he immediately warned him that he wanted Damon to do everything for him. He, in turn, considered "trying" to be of key importance here. Than actually "doing it".

"And now something that will harmonize nicely with your arrogant demeanor..." he said and reached into the pocket of his bathrobe.  
He took a neat, shapely box out of it. It was metallic, matte. Perhaps titanium.

"Oh, Klaus, you didn't have to." Damon sad like a typical young lady who was given a gift, as well as brushing back the hair she had thrown over her. Another thing that he turned into a joke, however, he actually felt something was wrong. Niklaus was probably the last person in this world who would give him any gift just like that, selflessly, with no ulterior motives and no benefits. Especially at a time like this. At the conclusion of the contract.  
"Seriously?" He raised an eyebrow when he saw what was in the box. "First, at least buy me dinner."

Klaus tapped the side of the box and the contents were revealed. A series of silver rings with an illegible engraving. There were two, but right next to this pair were three blanks. Where are those rings? Klaus reached into the box with his slender fingers, took one out, and handed it to Damon.  
"I wouldn't be happy if I were you." Only Klaus had the right to do so. "It's a device that gives me access to your location and unlocks some locks. Including the one by my door, but you don't need a key for that, because I can see that you will even crawl through the sewers."

Damon didn't move right away. It was only when it turned out that Klaus wanted him to put on a marvel of technology that Damon sighed heavily, then reached for his trouser belt, which he unceremoniously began to undo. Then he undid the button, pushed back the fly, and pushed his pants slightly off his hips, immediately peering behind his black underwear.  
''Egh. It won't fit.'' He pursed his lips into a narrow line, looking at him apologetically. "You'll have to take it to a jeweler and make it bigger."  
He wiggled one eyebrow suggestively, after a while he pulled on his underwear and buttoned his pants and tucked his shirt into them. No. He didn't like the idea of wearing a locator like a dog. He did not plan to put it on just like that, but in the end he reached out for it, shifting a small, intricately made wedding ring between his fingers.

'Who has the other three?' Raven asked, reaching into his pants pocket for a small chain. ''Your siblings?''  
He did not want any unnecessary jewelry on his hands. These small objects later interfere with combat, in the shower, during sex, masturbation, and any other activities that required the use of your hands. So he put the ring on the chain, but still not putting it around his neck yet. This would make the gift actually a collar. Maybe it will be possible to convert it into a bracelet... The man adjusted all his clothes, remembering in time about his belts and weapons that he found in the bathroom. He put the straps in his pocket, but left the knife in his hand, now playing with it instead of the ring.

Mikaelson wasn't touched by Damon's next show of wit, so his eyelid didn't twitch as he unbuttoned his fly. He was just waiting for this one to accept the gift. Klaus gave him a smile that meant something like "I won't tell you in my life."  
"You would like to know, wouldn’t you?" He mocked the man and reached for their newly signed contract.  
It wasn't flawless or even… thoughtful. Klaus wrote what occurred to him, and that very evening he was going to put it deep in a drawer so that he wouldn't have to look at him anymore, but only live with the knowledge that Damon was somehow his own. And he is obligated.  
"But do you think I'd let Rebekah take care of the stone? I do not think so.''  
Klaus did not trust almost anyone, so it is possible that he just lost the other three. But Damon won't know the truth about the rings. Neither this nor any other.

Well, everything that had to be done today... has been done. Nothing else was keeping Damon here, or stopping Klaus from throwing him out the door. And yet something made the blond man unable to bring himself to tell Damon to leave his property. But he had no intention of making a fool of himself and standing there staring at Damon. Therefore, he moved away from him, took the contract with him and left the bedrooms in favor of the living room, and then traveled across the entire width of his apartment to... a studio connected with a library and a study. He closed the door behind him, knowing it would spare him an awkward goodbye, and when he left, Damon would no longer be here.

He allowed himself slow movements, a few sips of whiskey in utter, deaf solitude. He stared at the picture on the wall showing the stains of some furious abstraction and grimaced.  
Who hanged it here?  
What a disgrace ...  
Signed - N.M.

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to know what You think about it, so please comment and let me know! :)
> 
> If there'll appear any questions about the universe, I'll be adding more notes at the beggining, so everything is clear and easy to read and understand. :))


End file.
